


Antics and Perspectives

by Wallothet



Series: The Charlie Cure [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Antics and Perspectives, Charlie is Queen, Crack, Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Humor, Hunt, Kisses, Love, M/M, Sex Talk, Snow, Wallothet, Winter, feel good fic, friends - Freeform, girl talk, human!Cas, new, sleepover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:14:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallothet/pseuds/Wallothet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll default to the next question then; how… Big, is he?”</p><p>“Umm… six feet one inch I believe,” Cas took a long pull from his beer, finishing it off.</p><p>“No doofus,” Charlie chuckled, “I mean his-”</p><p>Cas choked on his last mouthful, hand coming to his mouth as Charlie thumped his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antics and Perspectives

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the Charlie Cure and Sam Sees; a window into their lives.
> 
> Anything you really want to see in this series, let me know and it may just happen.

The night Cas found his way back to the bunker, was an emotional one. Having very little contact with Dean between falling with the rest of Heaven’s finest, and arriving on Dean’s doorstep, Cas had only managed to speak to him a handful of times when he could get his hands on a few quarters to make the call.

 

Each drop of rain was illuminated momentarily by the light flooding out from the bunker’s entrance that night. One sighting of Dean was all the confirmation Cas needed before his knees gave out from exhaustion and he’d collapsed right there.

“ _Cas_ -” Dean shot forward, crouching low and gathering Cas into his arms, “Sam- SAM!” his voice cracking.

Sam came running up the iron staircase, instantly assessing the situation and was straight into action. Between the two of them, they carried the soaking man down to the living room, through the hall and lowered him carefully onto Dean’s bed.

He was freezing. There was a light film of dirt on his skin and he was thin and if it weren’t for years’ worth of experience, Dean would have fallen apart at the sight of his broken angel and been little help to himself and even less help to Cas.

After removing his soaked clothes and wrapping him up in every blanket he could, Dean curled up next to Cas that night.

 

Cas slept solid for 18 hours.

 

He awoke with a start, pulling in a sharp breath without a clue where he was. He jumped again as a familiar hand came down on his shoulder. _Home._  Cas tucked himself under Dean’s chin as his eyes turned to glass. Dean didn’t say anything. Just held his angel (powers or no powers) securely to his chest.

Cas didn’t leave Dean’s side much after that.

 

Considering this was Cas reborn, Cas without celestial power, _human_ Cas, Dean couldn’t fault how well the guy was doing.

Three weeks in saw Cas adjusting like a pro.

Four weeks in saw Cas in front of the stove on a Thursday morning, frying eggs.

Dean slouched into the kitchen rubbing his eyes and squinting at the sight, a smile sliding into place and he stepped quietly behind Cas his arms coming about his middle, lips finding his shoulder.

A moment’s tenseness at being made jump, Cas soon relaxed into the touch, baring his neck to Dean happily.

“M’gonna miss you,” Dean breathed by Cas’ ear.

Cas sighed, moving to face Dean, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “There’s no real reason for me to stay here. I’m more than capable of assisting you and Sam.”

“You know I can’t risk that- not yet”, he added as Cas opened his mouth to protest.

This discussion was burnt out. It was only by sheer distraction of a sexual nature that Dean had won that battle and made Cas swear he’d stay home for the first hunt.

“Besides,” Dean slipped his hands down the back of Cas’ track pants, “Your girlfriend would be gutted if you cancelled the slumber party.”

Cas’ face softened at the mention of Charlie. After their first encounter, after what Cas did for her, they’d since become even easier around each other though Dean knew Cas really wanted to spend some proper time with her, especially now he was human.

“Need I remind you that Charlie is attracted to women?”

“Yeahyeahyeah, I don’t think anyone could not be attracted to this,” Dean gave Cas’ ass a quick squeeze, reiterating the point.

Cas ducked his head, hiding a smile, “You’re vile.”

“You bring out the best in me.” He pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead.

 

He and Cas packed Dean’s bag for the trip. Or rather Dean packed his own bag and Cas did everything physically possible to distract him.

“ _Cas…_ ” Dean grumbled, as Cas flopped down in front of him and onto his neatly folded clothes for the third time. Dean had quickly discovered Cas’ constant requirement for human contact. One of the many quirks and traits as a human he’d learnt and picked up; Cas would find any excuse to touch Dean, be it a simple caress of his hand as he passed him in the hallway, or a line drawn across his shoulder as he walked behind Dean when he sat in the library.

“I’m going to pull the sparks from your car so you can’t leave,” Cas stretched like a cat, his shirt lifting to expose his hips, looking into Dean’s eyes like he knew exactly how beautiful he was.

Dean huffed a laugh, lifting Cas’ leg to locate his socks, “It’s called a “spark plug,” babe, and if you can take me out to my car right now and point it out to me, I’ll pull all of them out myself.”

Cas opened his mouth to retort and closed it again. Bluff called.

“Guh, not with the face…”

Cas pouted, if possible, even more so, climbing onto Dean’s lap, straddling his thighs, “Don’t go… Can’t someone else do it? Garth, he-”

Dean leant in, closing his mouth over Cas’, hands hooking behind his knees, pulling him closer, pulling a soft moan from Cas. Dean breathed quietly, “You’re cute when you beg,” then gracelessly dumped him back on the bed ( _ummph!_ ) and stood up, collecting his gun from the desk.

Cas propped himself up on his elbows, “I wasn’t _begging,_ Dean.”

“Sounded like begging,” Dean pulled his knife out, flicking his thumb over it, testing it, “Besides, it’s just a couple vamps, not like we haven’t dealt with them before,” Dean cocked his head aside, thinking (a trait that _he’d_  somehow picked up from _Cas_ ) “Hell, I’ve even _been_ one before.”

“That’s not funny and inspires less than zero confidence in your ability to handle Vampires.”

Dean grinned, stepping towards the bed again, sheathing his knife and tossing it into his open bag, “I’ll call you when I get there, I’ll call you when we’re done and I’ll call you when we’re on our way back… I’ve never had a mom as an adult-”

Cas yanked him back down onto the bed and after a short wrestle for dominance, pinned him to the bed, “If you die, I’ll kill you myself,” the wrath of God overtook his eyes, the once almighty weapon of the Lord bore his most wrathful gaze, ready to smite any who should dare-

 

 

Then Dean tickled his sides ‘til he fell off and kissed him ‘til he grinned dazedly.

 

 

++++

 

 

Dean slammed the boot closed after Sam deposited the last bag. With Charlie now arrived, she stood beside Cas to see them off.

 

“Have fun. You know where we are if you need us,” Charlie stepped forward, stood on her toes and gave Sam a hug. Any excuse for one of his hugs because oh my _God_ how could someone give hugs that great?

“Hey,” Dean murmured to Cas, giving him his own goodbye, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He held the front of Cas’ shirt in his fists, keeping his gaze, “Promise,” he kissed him tenderly, heart still managing to pound every time they kiss like this.

Cas nodded once, wound his arms round Dean’s middle. Dean breathed in Cas’ hair and placed a kiss there before breaking apart. He made to move towards the car and was met with twin looks of total _AWWWW_ from Sam and Charlie.

“Shut up,” Dean barked, climbing into the driver’s seat with a scowl.

Sam and Charlie sniggered as they parted; Charlie joining Cas, Sam sliding into the passenger’s seat.

“You’re so whipped, Dean.”

The Impala tore off down the road.

Charlie shook her head, nudging Cas with her elbow, “he’s so _whipped._ ”

 

 

 

++++

 

 

 

“I’m just saying… He looks like someone who knows how to please someone,” Charlie leaned back, admiring her handy work, “And by the way you _totally_ suit red.”

Night rolled around quickly after a day of indoor water pistol fights, (Cas _loved_ that,) attempted baking and an intense game of hide and seek.

Cas scrunched his nose, holding his right hand up at eye-level, eyeing his newly coloured nails, taking a swig of beer with his left hand.

“Hey, this is the one girly activity I indulge in and you’re the only guy I know who’ll humour me.” Charlie held up the water pistol, very carefully filling it with her “emergency” mini vodka.

“Does this come off? And do you not have any… Female friends who enjoy this sort of thing?”

“Yes- and no I don’t- and don’t change the subject. Level with me; on a scale of one to ten, just how good is Dean Winchester in bed?”

Cas blushed. Probably the second worst betrayal his newly owned body could commit. Ill-timed boners took first place, he’d deduced.

“Girl talk dude,” Charlie snuggled under her blanket on the sofa in their makeshift open plan blanket/pillow fort they’d put together. Basically every blanket and cushion they could find, dumped on the curved sofa, their alcohol stash buried somewhere by the coffee table. “Like I said, you’re the closest thing to a female friend I have. I get it; I’m a lesbian and you’re kinda gay, but we’re gonna have to make do. Now. Details.”

“I… Well it’s-” Cas’ blush deepened, even in the dim light of the lounge lamps, “I mean, we’ve done… _Stuff,_ but not….”

Charlie’s mouth fell open, “You two haven’t _done_ it yet?!”

“I’ve given him oral pleasure, and he to me-”

“Don’t ever- please don’t call it that,” Charlie shuddered, snickering quietly to herself.

“He’s good… Better than good.”

“I’ll default to the next question then; how… Big, is he?”

“Umm… six feet one inch I believe,” Cas took a long pull from his beer, finishing it off.

“No doofus,” Charlie chuckled, “I mean his-”

Cas choked on his last mouthful, hand coming to his mouth as Charlie thumped his back. Once his breathing settled down, Cas pondered that for a moment, “… What is average?”

“Like, four inches?” Charlie’s eyes widened, “Why do I know that?”

Cas squinted a little, clearly thinking it through, “… Then above average.”

Charlie let out a squeal, clapping her hands excitedly. Then went mad, squirting her vodka gun down her throat, swallowing it with a shudder.

“We definitely need more alcohol.” And with a grin she dove off into the blanket sea, pulling them back, searching for the stash.

 

 

 

++++

 

 

 

_2 hours later_

 

 

“And-ah three, two, ONE-”

They licked a line of salt from the backs of their hands, tipped back the tequila and sucked on their own segment of lemon.

“That was- Charlie that was foul,” Cas shuddered, eyes bleary.

“I know-” _hiccup,_ “Should we do an-another?”

Cas scrunched his face up in a grin, holding his glass back out to her.

“So, Castiel, tell me… When you said… What was it- “raised you from perd-perdition,”… was that like… figuratively speaking or you actually… Y’know, took a highway to Hell?” Charlie swallowed a laugh, filling their glasses again, unable to make eye contact, still not quite over both the best and worst pick up line she’d ever heard.

Cas squinted at her, alcohol scrambling all social cues he’d learnt so far, “Highway to Hell… Though it’s more a…Slipstream,” he slumped back, “And I’d prefer to never go back...

Well, that could have been a hit song too.

“Wait so… You actually like, went to hell… To save Dean?” Drinks forgotten, she stared at Cas.

Cas nodded, smiling to himself.

Charlie whispered in awe, “that is _so_ fucking cute…”

He was about to explain the difficulties of tackling hell-fire on your own and looking for just one specific soul in a writhing sea of billions upon billions of tortured souls, when his brain let him know he might not have full capacity of articulation, due to the half empty bottle of tequila in Charlie’s hand.

He was saved any embarrassment when his phone rang. He fished around, missing his pocket the first two times before extracting his phone. “Ah… Hello?” he put on his best sober voice. And it came out kinda British.

“Cas?” Came Dean’s voice.

“Why yes, it is I…. …… .. Cas.”

Charlie lost it.

“Cas are you drunk?” He sounded amused.

“No-” _burp,_ “… Yes.”

Cas beamed at the sound of Dean’s laughter.

“What’s he saying?” Charlie hissed, plumping up the pillows.

“He says…” Cas paused, mouth snapping shut. Charlie didn’t miss the dilation of his pupils, the halt of breath, “ _Dean…_ ”

Charlie started making gagging noises, mock vomiting in the closest vase.

Cas shifted, eyes darting round the room as he listened to whatever filth Dean was whispering down the phone.

Charlie mouthed, “I’ll go get the cards,” deciding to give them a minute and took off down the hall in her fluffy slipper boots.

 

 

 

++++

 

 

 

_Even later._

Charlie stared into Cas’ eyes. Cas stared right back… A playing card stuck to Charlie’s forehead and a playing card stuck to Cas’ forehead. Apparently if the card fell off at any point, the owner of the fallen card had to take the face value in drinks.

 

“You blinked!”

“Shit- every time… How is that possible- you’re not even Heaven charged anymore- surely you have to blink?”

“Apparently, I’ve been… “eye fucking” Dean since… Day one. I’m good at it, at staring. Or so I’ve been told.”

Charlie laughed, gagging on her drink, a little coming out of her nose.

 

 

 

++++

 

 

 

They woke up after midday the following day after falling asleep in front of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. They were both now each sporting their own hangover, a steaming coffee in hand and a vow to never drink again.

“I know it’s cold, but I said I’d keep you entertained and that’s what I’m gonna do. You’ll only end up moping if we don’t go out there. Plus, I bought you a present.”

“But he hasn’t called,” Cas frowned, his lower lip jutting out a little, bundled up in the thickest coat they could find and an itchy scarf. Charlie handed him a lumpy package, wrapped in brown paper.

“Playing in the snow is more fun than it sounds,” she looked up to meet his eyes and chuckled, “And you can wipe that look off your face; it won’t work on _me._ I'll keep the phone on me, they'll call soon.”

Cas tore off the paper and pulled out a lumpy red beanie, woven in the thickest wool Cas had seen, with a giant bobble on top.

“When I saw it I just knew you had to have it.”

Rather reluctantly, (even more reluctant due to the fact that he did actually really fucking love his new hat,) Cas thanked Charlie and let her sit it on his head.

Charlie put on a squeaky Chinese accent, “Now Doctor Jones. Snowman time.”

 

A snow war soon broke out. In the back of Cas’ hungover mind, a part of him knew the two brothers should have been back a few hours ago. The front of Cas’ mind told him not to worry, but to instead focus on not getting nailed in the face with a lump of snow again, thrown by the apparent expert that was his red-headed companion, now charging towards his hiding place.

Cas broke cover and flung a snowball at her middle and darted off up the hill, bobble hat wobbling all the way.

Charlie giggled, panting for breath and flopped down in the snow, promptly making a snow angel. Cas turned back to hurl some more threatening snow war related abuse at her, but closed it again, head tilting at the fresh snow angel.

Charlie’s grin quickly faltered, realizing her mistake, “I’m sorry- Shit, I didn’t think-”

Cas shrugged, smiling softly as he carefully stepped back down the hill, standing beside her, “Don’t worry about it,” he sat down in the snow beside her and laid back, mimicking her actions, creating his own snow angel before standing up to assess his work, “It’s about perspective.”

Charlie smiled up at him proudly and held out her hand, dusk settling in around them. Cas tugged her to her feet and they both turned at the same moment, as the familiar rumble of the Impala filled the cold road, a set of headlights drawing closer.

“Perfect timing,” they both grinned at each other.

 

Then Cas’ heart sank. Sam was driving- Dean was nowhere to be seen. He jogged over to the car, Charlie in tow, “Sam- You’re okay- where’s-?”

“Calm down, he’s okay- look,” Sam’s eyes flicked up to Cas’ hat before he nodded his head at the backseat, amused.

What Cas had initially overlooked, was a pile of blankets on the backseat and inside them, he could now just see a scruff of hair at one end.

“He broke his wrist pretty bad, they wanted to keep him over night, but settled for dosing him up on pain meds when he kicked up a fuss. Resting in the back was the most I could bargain him into doing.”

Cas frowned, “If he should be in a hospital… Sam, why wouldn’t he stay?”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say it has more than a little to do with a promise he made you,” Sam ran a hand through his hair, a small smile playing across his mouth, “Will you help me move him ins-”

_Taptap_

Dean waved drunkenly from the back window closest to Cas and Charlie. Then drew a love heart on the condensated window.

 

Sam bit his lip, trying and failing to hold back a grin, “He’s still pretty stoned.”

 

 

 

++++

 

 

 

“We have to do this again sometime.”

Cas nodded, detangling from Charlie’s embrace, “I’d like to hear some more about your night with the Woodland Fairies.”

Charlie winked, “All in good time my friend.”

She kissed his cheek and jogged to her car, huddling in on herself from the cold and singing ( _I’m on a slipstream to Hell,_ ) she dove into the driver’s seat, tailing off into the night.

Cas stepped back inside the bunker just as Sam’s voice echoed up the stairs, (“What- Cas, what the hell happened to the kitchen?” Baking attempts discovered. _Shit.)_ a warm glow settled in his stomach from Charlie's words. _Friend._

Dean woke in his own bed three hours later, eyes opening a fraction at a time.

“Cas?” he murmured.

Cas moved into his line of sight, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking Dean's good hand in his. Much to Cas’ dismay, something close to horror made its way onto Dean’s face.

“Dean- what’s wrong?”

“… The hell is on your head?”

“What-? Oh…” Cas let out a breath, fondly pulling off the bobble hat he’d forgotten to remove when he came inside.

Dean’s eyes grew even wider, a hand coming up to rub his own forehead, “Is… Is that nail polish?” Dean groaned, “Oh my God I’m concussed, I knew it…” he threw his arm over his eyes, grumbling to himself.

Cas sighed, smiling quietly, his hand coming up to Dean’s cheek. He leant in, touching his lips to Dean’s, who instantly hushed.

 

“Talk to me… What’d you and Charlie get up to?” he murmured.

Content, Cas replied, “… I think I’ve made a friend.”

 


End file.
